Civil, far from it
by TheFrostIsAllOver
Summary: The end of Irish civil war as seen by the young Irish Free State (Republic of Ireland)
1. Chapter 1

So there she stood. Hair flowing in long amazing curls, the uniform, despite all it's wear and tear looking perfect on her and her grass green eyes now soulless. We stood facing each other, I was on one, she was the other. My sister, once upon a the one woman I knew would always love, was today, the person I knew hated me the most. I loved her, I love her still for everything but that day was my day.

We faced each other in the field I had, just eighteen months previous to this, learned how to ride horses in with her. I knew those days were gone, I knew that that her was gone. I couldn't accept it. I hated fighting, that was why I was fighting her, I did want to fight him, my brother. That day, my brother was not on my mind it was me and her. Sisters, once barely separate, standing for one ideal. That one ideal- to be united again. She wanted to feel whole, I wanted my brother, but there was one problem. I stood for the Irish free state. I had signed my name on the Anglo-Irish treaty agreement. I had gained some power taught and guided by Micheal Colins through war. She backed by Eamon DeValera. I hated him, I hate him.

There was unusually enough, no rain that day. It was mild, cloudy and gentle, but the breeze was cold cutting. I was reminded of the first time I saw her, just eight years ago. She looked the same as she had then, proud, brave but you could see the fear. She was afraid of me... It was a year since we stood face to face with each other. I had cropped my hair short, it hung in tangled strawberry-blonde waves. There was no one to help me brush my hair which this time last year, was below my waist. It was getting in the way so I had to get rid of it. I was young still, as countries were and as any human child would be. I stood looking about eight-maybe seven. I was skinny, a little taller then a girl of my age but not taller then the boys. I wore a uniform too, my own different to hers.

"Meave! Put down you guns, it's my turn, I'm an Ireland too. Please Meave. We can end this now,"

I wanted my sister to hear me. I really didn't want to do this, she was silent in response, her eyes narrowed and she glared at me with an icy intensity that would still leave me frozen on the spot. She didn't see me as her sister, she didn't see me as human, all I was... I was the enemy. Her enemy, a "traitor among traitors" as Arthur would have called me. I wanted to stop this here and now, I wanted to surrender but the words would never pass my lips. Something deep within me was burning at the thought, stronger then reason, all-consuming, overwhelming and engulfing every fiber of me. I had to prove myself, it was time to become a country, not a child living among them, a fully fledged nation. Built on one stronger sense, I needed to protect them. The people, the ones who once died, the ones who were backing me-the loyalist of the north and the anti-treaty forces. All to be protected by me. I had to win.

"A dheirfiur, Seo é mí-cheart! Mí-cheart ar an gach leibheil,"*

I tried Irish, it wasn't my first language, English was. My pronunciation was pretty dreadful and she laughed, cruel, hard and mocking. When she stopped we fought. She fired the first shots, as much warnings as anything else. A bullet grazed my shoulder and the pace increase. I was uncomfortable fighting like this- fighting at all really. I returned some shots not that I wanted them to hit, in my head I could hear his voice, Mr Collins telling me how to snipe. He was shot and dead now. For everything, he believed in me, he didn't want to but he understood me. I hid behind a tree and changed to my old reliable sniper. The first time I held it it was nearly bigger then I was now it was still too big, but I was able to handle it. I weighed a lot all the same. There was a forest that I could run to, I could hide there wait for her to come looking for me. I shuddered, broke down. I was planning on killing her. Worse then that the plan brought me no guilt.

"Teigh amach, teigh amach. Teigh amach agus ansin, rachamid abhaile,"**

her voice rang in my ears. The first words I heard her say to me directly in years. I could hear her talking from behind the tree still in Irish I couldn't understand her. I started to try to calm down, never shot to kill when you're angry it's disrespectful and you're probably doing it from the anger. My heart was slowing to a normal pace, my breathing was even. Dismiss plan one, wait for her to come from the other side. I could hear the steps of her feet on the slightly dry grass. The slight breeze through the leaves above me. Close range sniping was messy according to the squad***, it should be avoided. I just needed a good head shot, easy at this distance, beyond easy. One foot came into sight, followed by all of her in one quick movement. her throat was in my guns sights. A strange smile crept across her face. She snickered at me then spoke,

"Oh Ébhia, little Ébhia how quickly you've grown... The first time I saw you..."

She smiled stopping mid-sentence and shaking her head. She looked at me and continued,

"well, I knew you were going to be problematic... Headstrong little thing you are, I mustn't be surprised by that. Now have you any plans for after you pull that trigger. I'm just waiting for you to do it, make it happen. I think you're going to be quite surprised."

My hands were slightly trembling, I didn't love her-not this whoever this was they freaked me out and I wanted Meave back. My arms ached a little from the weight they had been supporting. My strength went when I made the shot. The gun slipped down out of my hands as I fired and I missed. Silence fell. I felt a weight crashing down on me an anvil falling, a bull charging, a wave swallowing me and spinning me round and round all at once. I was on my knees.

"I surrender,"

My head snapped up failing to believe it. My mouth was one the ground nearly. My eyes were being forced a with the strength that I needed less then five minutes ago,

"what!?"

All I could manage. Yes I hadn't wanted to fight but this felt too sudden,

"I surrender- you win, the failure will be accepted. I'll sign the treaty. I recognize you as the Irish free state. The North of Ireland will be separate. You win but only because you accept failure."

She turned to walk away my hands fell to the soft soil, I was a failure- that was why I existed. The clouds refused to burst, the didn't empathise with me. I lay down under the tree staring at the clouds through the tree. Pulling my uniform tightly around my form for warmth, I fell asleep there, praying that I wouldn't wake up because of the shame of the entire war. No brother, no sister, no soldiers for company. I felt no need to ever return to the city I was born in. A glossy iridescent raven landed in front of my face, I spooked and sat up. It remained un-phased and stared into my eyes with its black beady ones. I heard it cawing- but the sounds it made began to change the crowing-cawing became horrifically human, screams. Men women children, the victims of my fight, families like my own torn apart by stupid stupid bloodshed. They grew louder and louder, all I could hear, all I could see. The wars. The first world war, the war of independence, the civil war. All I had known. Then it stopped as suddenly as it had started.

Peace. My eyes opened the raven was gone, its was dark. It was a very soft dark, I was cold but I didn't care. My body was stiff as I stretched out then pulled into a ball again. "Time to go home" I though to myself... Wherever home would be now, it would not be with Meave...


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks passed. Three weeks since I last saw her. I had been sleeping rough the odd night, but otherwise had found accommodation with some of the former solders who knew me from fighting. Today was the day she would sign the treaty, Arthur would be there maybe my brother Liam too... I wanted to see him again. The Irish free state, that's what they'd be calling me now, I was no longer just Ébhia. I laughed to myself as I walked along the streets of Dublin. Not laughing from anything funny, I was laughing because I wanted to cry from happiness, sadness and relief but now was not the time to do that.

I stopped out side the supreme court. It towered above me the roof blended into the smoggy-cloudy mix that hung over my streets. The air stank of smoke and the river Liffey. The world was twinged yellow from the light that was barely filtering through the clouds. I loved the city, even though it was a little awful on days like this. The steps into the court once would have caused me trouble once and while I was a child still, I could manage this with no trouble. War had made me strong physically and mentally though it cost me greatly. I didn't view the world with a childish innocence a girl of my age should have, I saw death everywhere, I knew of pain and I had seen what the worst of humanity-I had been the worst of humanity.

At the top of the steps I stopped and turned back to look at Dublin again. The puddles on the ground reflected the sky the odd pedestrian walked by. They were sad, no one carried their heads high and their steps were somewhat dragged. I knew my victory wouldn't bring anything to these people. The gloom was lifted for a brief moment, a girl no older then I skipped along singing sweetly. A pang of jealousy ran through me, my training kicked as soon as my instincts. I didn't run after her, I wanted to, I wanted to learn the song she sang and I wanted to play. I turned my back and entered the building. I had a job to do-protect them. Get what I could for them and hope that they'd never have to fight again. The innocence and happiness of my countries children would never be destroyed by war again. They would live and have a chance.

England was standing inside the doorway. I jumped slightly, not expecting to see him there

"I only need Irelands signature..."

I knew that that was all we needed. His eyes shut tightly for a moment, like he was in pain he rubbed his temples then crouched to my level, a first for anyone who wasn't my sister.

"... I'm sorry you lost your childhood like this, it wasn't fair... Your brother has chosen to stay with me, I need you to understand that."

My own expression didn't change. If anything, I became more determined to hide how I felt. He wouldn't understand me even if I tried to explain it. My eyes shut so I wouldn't have to look at him and I turned away. I felt a strange twang in my head, no not a twang an ache. I felt like my head was going to explode. The pain brought me to my knees and tears rolled down my cheeks. Still it continued, images of the fighting up North; I saw him my brother hiding blocking his ears to keep out the sounds of gunfire, beside him lay a solider no a teenage boy 16, maybe 17. He was holding a gun a sniper like my own. In the vision I couldn't see if he was dead or alive. The pain burned and I opened my eyes again. I realized he was seeing it too when our eyes meet burning from the same pain. Neither of us could talk in that moment but we didn't have to

"Cad a tharla? An bhfuil sibh ceart go leor? Nó an bhfuil sibh ag feachant ar an foréigean"

She glared down at me as England stood up. I responded likewise and the atmosphere changed remarkably the air chilled and the tension between could have been cut with a blunt spoon.

"Just get the business over with. I've a country to run,"

"a domain. You're not a country,"

"yet,"

he rolled his eyes as I spoke. The three of us walked down a hallway to an office that had small windows and dim lights. It smelt like tobacco, the same smell that I associated with some of my earliest memories. The desk was set up with four chairs. Meave and England sat across from each other I didn't want to sit next to either of them. I felt no need to sit down so remained standing much to both of their annoyance.

"I've signed it already, what do I've to do now? Anything else either of you want to take from me? You have my brother, my childhood, what have I left?"

They were a little taken aback by my tone. England turned his glare to Meave. He looked angry well, more he looked ready to act on his anger. He seemed to be one of those eternally angry looking people.

"Why didn't you tell her!?"

"Ní thuigaim."

"Tell me what? What was I not told?"

"You... Ébhia- you're just a child, you can't run a country, not one as developed as th..."

"I won both the wars- I am barely a child, I do not think like one. I might be small in size, but I have proven that I am strong, have I not? Have I not shown that I am capable to do this job? Are you really going to take what I gave everything for from me? I fail to see your reasoning. How can you let someone like her, run a country!? This is why I even exist!"

"Dun do bheal phaitse!"

"Stop speaking to me in that language! I can't understand it."

With that she struck me across the face, my lip bled from the impact. Maybe it was the shock, maybe it was my somewhat distorted perception of the world but I barely noticed the strike. Had it not been for the sound I wouldn't have noticed it. England stood up and shouted something at Meave, I could hear the words but they weren't making sense. I understood them but couldn't get my head around what exactly it was, that was going on. When they moved they blurred and slowed down the room itself seemed strangely irrelevant. I could feel my own eyes shutting heavily not to bring me to darkness to something else. I was standing with Liam on a beach, we were throwing a rugby ball back and forth between each other. It was a mild day, some sunshine with a gentle summer breeze. Meave stood by watching from the side joining in the odd time and showing us some tricks, we felt like a family. We never had to fight in the wars and the land belonged to those who should own it. As we kicked the ball,a sudden change in the wind blew it into the ocean. Liam was dragged away when he ran after it. I ran, hopping to catch him but it failed I was dragged under by the currents.

Strong hands were holding my shoulders firmly but not roughly. I looked up seeing two men standing by me England was the one holding my shoulders, the other I recognized after a minute of staring at him. America, the strange young man who my sister cared greatly about. He was cocky but, I liked him His usual grin was missing, replaced with a straight face and look of slight surprise.

"you passed out Év... I'm glad you woke up."

"Shove it!"

I was in no mood to hear him. He got the message, I shrugged his hands away. Looking beyond them, I realized I didn't know where I was. It was a dark blue walled room. No- I knew this room, it had been a long time since I had spent that night here during the first world war. I felt tears welling in my eyes but blinked them back. America smiled at me, making me blush and hide my face. I saw something that I didn't expect to see. England smiled at me, not false not out of politeness. I didn't quite understand this reaction- I had been rude that didn't usually make anyone smile. Finally I identified it as a smile of relief, which only further confused me. My head pounded when I remembered what England had said.

"why?"

"you deserve something."

He stood up and dragged America away, the young man had been uncharacteristically quiet, for a moment I was concerned but found myself too sleepy to think on it. This time as my eyes shut blackness dominated and I had some peace.


	3. Chapter 3

The papers were signed later that week. It was true, I was not going to be the Irish free state, not alone. I was too young everyone would see that, I would share my role. I would have to work with her, that woman I once called sister. We would share that role. It was only meant to last so long, how long would depend on my growth. I was not happy with this arrangement. The day of the signing, I was still injured hurting from the strike. England had given me a look of sympathy that I didn't care for as the papers were signed. I nearly shot him for that look. In my head I did.

We were left alone together, Meave and I. No firearms in reach, nothing that could be obviously used as a weapon. It was not welcomed by either of us. We were to no longer share a room, I was in one wing of the Aras, she was in the other. Eamon DeValera got voted in by the people and I was sidelined. For everything I had sacrificed, I was to be forgotten as the victor of both the war of independence and Civil war. The opposing side had gained public backing and I was ignored in the public events. Where ever I went I was reminded of the reasons behind my existence-failure. Not a single person let me forget that.


End file.
